“Everything. Usually I’ll pick something up to bring home. I don’t eat out much in restaurants.”
“I only do when I have an event or meeting friends.”
That wicked smirk ticked up the corners of his mouth. “Event, huh? One of those where you pay a thousand bucks to dress up like a waiter and eat lousy food?”
I chuckled. “Well, I don’t pay that much, but in my business, sometimes you gotta play the game.”
“Do you do a lot of game playing?”
I arched a brow. “Only in the bedroom.”
I hadn’t lied to Keston. I rarely went out to dinner during the week. By the time I battled the subway to my apartment after a day at the office, I was tired and wanted nothing more than to stretch out on my couch like a slug. Of course, if I had a networking get-together after work, I put on my Bailey-happy-face and presented myself, but the truth was, if I had a steady boyfriend, I’d have liked nothing more than to be home with him.
But Keston didn’t play along. “Why did you want to be a lawyer?”
I sipped my beer. “I’m a Jewish guy. We’re allowed three professions—doctor, lawyer, or accountant.” When he didn’t laugh at my joke, I sighed. “I really like helping people, and I believe I’m a good problem solver. Being a lawyer helps me accomplish that.”
That brought a reaction. “Oh yeah, sure.”
Hmm. I sensed sarcasm. “Not a fan of the legal system, I take it?”
I watched the play of emotions over his face—anger, pain, loss. “How could I be? It kept me with people where I was only wanted for the money the government gave them. And thenthere’re the cops.” His blue eyes narrowed to slits. “They’ve got nothing better to do than harass kids for tagging or swiping a damn doughnut from the bodega ’cause maybe they’re hungry.”
“Is that what happened to you?” The restaurant was filling up, but it was as if we were the only two people in the world. Knowing how self-controlled Keston was and that he lived inside his head, I could see him formulating an answer, his memories falling into place, lining up like soldiers on a battlefield.
And I wanted to be his armor and shield him against the world.
His jaw tightened. “Forget it.”
“No, I don’t think so. Grady told us he had a few brushes with the cops as a teenager and that’s why he became a lawyer. So kids like him would have an advocate.”
An ugly sound escaped Keston. “Listen, I love my brother, but he’s not much different from you. Working in a fancy office with a view, pulling in a big six-figure salary.”
“First of all, he and I are nothing alike. Aside from him having a PhD as well as a law degree, Grady works at a large firm. I’m a solo practitioner, hustling for each and every client. Grady started his career working with kids who grew up like the two of you. He’s been in the trenches of child welfare.”
“You don’t have to tell me about my brother,” Keston growled.
“Maybe I do, if you’re dismissing him and all the hard work he put in to get where he is as a partner in a law firm. And don’t give me that snarl. You don’t scare me.”
“I don’t need this shit.”
“And I don’t need to be your booty call. If you want to see me in bed, you’ll have to deal with me out of it. And that means talking.”
Nerves dancing and heart pounding, I waited for him to get up and walk away. I half expected him to. Keston had that “it” quality that drew men to him. When you looked like him, honey had nothing on his vinegar. Everyone wanted a taste, and they’d willingly take the bitter with the sweet.
“Fine, whatever,” Keston grumbled. “But Grady and I, we live in different worlds. He’s being nice to me—”
“Because he loves you. Do you know how lucky you are to have found each other and to have a great guy like Grady as your brother?”
Our server returned, and we each ordered three rolls. Keston once again fell silent. I took a sip of my beer. How could a man so loud and vocal during sex have so little to say across the table? It was like pushing a wheel up the mountain only to have it slip halfway down. I could take this dark and broody act for so long—I’d never been a fan ofJane EyreorWuthering Heights. I was looking for a real-life man, not a Rochester or Heathcliff.
“So, uh, is there a most popular tattoo? Like a starter that people who haven’t gotten one usually pick?” Was my question as stupid as it sounded? Keston’s brow furrowed, so I guessed not.
“Depends. Some girls and women like a flower or a heart. If they’ve had a new baby, they’ll get the birthday with maybe a little footprint. Or paw prints for their dogs or cats. Guys will go for skulls, or maybe the flag—US or their country. The eagle is popular.” He grinned, transforming his moody features into a thing of beauty, and I couldn’t help returning his smile. “Why, Uptown? You thinking of getting some ink?”
“Maybe. I don’t have any.”
Those blue eyes blazed hot. “I noticed. Pure, virgin skin.”
